


Champion Standing

by Captain_Revo



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Gen, Klingon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 15:04:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20293453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Revo/pseuds/Captain_Revo
Summary: A bat'leth tournament is held on Forcas III





	Champion Standing

The songs rang out across the great hall of the combat arena, as the smoke of hundreds of candles and braziers created a haze around the spectators. The great Bat'leth Tournament of Forcas III had reached the Semi Final stages. Four competitors remained, the klingons, Kang, Koloth, Chang, and an Orion called Dembar. Anyone who is brave enough to enter is welcome, and although it was not common for non-klingons to enter the tournament, it was not forbidden, and the green skinned brute had made an impressive showing even dispatching the hot favourite, a Dahar Master, in the opening round. The smell of blood that stained the floor filled the room only incensing the crowd for more violence. There had been one fatality and a number of injuries so far. While the objective is not to kill your opponent, and head shots from a bat'leth were to be avoided, it is not an activity for the faint-hearted. The tournament was considered the pinnacle of Klingon sport, and victory almost guaranteed them entry into the Order of the Bat'leth, and many past winners were inducted into the Yan-Isleth, the Brotherhood of the Sword, as the Chancellor's personal guards and counsel.

Kang, dressed in a golden top, with a silver sash, black fur sleeves, and dark trousers, eyed up his opponent, the large Orion, from across the arena hall. Dembar in turn had his eyes trained on the Klingon. He was salivating at the chance to fight such a feared warrior of the Empire.

Kang's route so far had been with little incident, only a minor laceration on the left arm from his own foolishness more than his opponents skills. He heard a smooth voice behind him.

"He's bigger than you, Kang," said Kor, mockingly. 

"His size does not concern me," he said stoically. 

"It didn't concern me either till he hit me," he replied, rubbing his still aching jaw.

Kang turned to him, and studied his face. "Your name is Kor, is it not?"

"My reputation precedes me," he said puffing out his chest.

"You victory at the battle of Klach D'kel Brakt was most impressive," he said, showing little emotion in his praise.

He let out a belly laugh, "That entire region was a minefield of subspace anomalies and metaphasic radiation. We lured them in and lit the whole cluster up. Those Romulan dogs didn't know what hit them. If we are paying compliments then your engagement with Kirk in the Azure Nebula has already become legendary. He's an impressive opponent, for a human."

Kang acknowledged with a nod. In truth it was little more than a game of cat and mouse. A shot was not even fired in anger. No blood was spilt, and he deeply regretted that it had not come to combat. But Klingons love to embellish a good story and before he had known it at least three versions of the event had been spun by various members of his crew. One claiming that his ship had faced down an entire Federation fleet, one told the story of how he had left the _Enterprise_ burning in space and limping back to Federation territory, and another suggested that there had been a hand to hand duel on the bridge of the _Enterprise_ herself, which had resulted in Kang killing his Vulcan first officer and Kirk swearing revenge. None of it was even remotely true, much to his chagrin. 

"The challengers will approach," came a booming voice of the Arena Master, an ancient klingon with white robes and even whiter hair, well over a hundred and fifty years old. He hobbled into the centre of the ring with a gnarled stick supporting him.

"Hard to believe someone so old can make such a noise," joked Kor. Kang was uninterested in the comment. 

The Klingons Koloth and Chang stepped forward. The platform was raised slightly from the floor. Four large pyres surrounded the ring making it unbearably hot, adding a layer of difficulty to any fight that heat fatigue could render you unconscious as quickly as any batl'leth. The symbol of the Klingon empire adorned the floor, while banners of the great houses were strung up around the walls. Koloth used the new modern bat'leth, with the three grips, and all wide blades all curved inwards. Chang had the older more ornate blade that was lighter, thinner and more jagged, with one of the outer blades curved inwards like a hook. 

"What do you know of this Chang?" asked Kang.

Kor folded his arms, "Not much. I have never faced him before. I hear he's quite the tactician though. He masterminded the attack on the Federation's Starbase One a number of years ago. A bold move. We almost had Earth at our mercy before the peace treaty. Oh it would be have been a battle for the ages."

"I remember that day well," replied Kang, reminiscing of the glorious battles as he slaughtered Federation soldiers. He bitterly opposed ending the war, but at least it had served to bring stability to the Empire.

"But it's said he like to play politics and prefers to strike from the shadows, and I know he cheats. On his last opponent he used an illegal manoeuvre. He will do anything to win, Kang."

"A coward then," an air of disgust in his tone. 

"Ahhh, the great honour conundrum. We value honour above all, and live by a code, but using any method at our disposal increases our chances of winning and the glory that it brings."

"What is the point of winning if you can not look yourself in the eye afterwards? If all you see staring back in petaQ."

"You can't look yourself in the eye if you're dead."

"Death means nothing to a klingon," he said, proudly

"And yet we always try to win." pointed out Kor. "Some would argue the only rules are the one we place upon ourselves. That we should return to the pure savagery of the past. Kill or be killed and to Gre'thor with the rules."

Kang was unmoved by the argument.

"What would you prefer;" Kor asked, "going to Sto'Vo'Kor today, a good little Klingon that broke no rules and cheated no opponents, or to die of old age, outlive your enemies, your belly full, and your bed filled with lovers? What life do you think our great ancestors would prefer we greet them having lead?"

"I did not ask for a philosophy debate," he said growing agitated. 

"Of course not, Kang," he said a smile creeping across his lips. A loud drum began beating.

"Competitors. Begin," boomed the voice again, as he backed away from the combatants.

Chang and Koloth quickly clashed swords as the drums thundered in the background. Koloth spun his blade around expertly and Chang defended the blows. Koloth was the stronger of the two and was quickly gaining the advantage, pushing his opponent back. 

"My dear Chang, I expected much better from you, is this the best you can muster," he said, as he effortlessly hacked and thrust with his weapon. Chang slashed at his feet but the warrior easily jumped over. 

"All in good time," Chang replied.

Kang looked on impressed, "The one called Koloth is very skilled."

Kor nodded with a degree of pride, "He's a friend of mine, I'll introduce you afterwards."

Chang kept deflecting the blows. He knew he was outmatched. He spun low and pulled a d'k tahg from his boot and slashed at his leg. Koloth crumpled to one knee. Chang raised himself up, stamped the bat'leth from his weakened opponents hands and plunged his own into his victim's shoulder. Blood splattered up the side of Chang's face and Koloth screamed in pain. Chang raised his weapon in triumph as he moved into the finals. Koloth staggered out of the arena to the medical area to patch his wound.

"That piece of baktag," he cheated. He can't use knives," shouted Kor.

"I thought winning was all that counts?"

"Well, I... I did not come here for a philosophy debate," he conceded, before laughing at himself.

Kang placed a hand on his shoulder, "Go, tend to your friend." 

Kor left to make sure his companion still had a working shoulder, while Kang readied his bat'leth, that was modelled after the one Kahless himself had used. The large Orion still had his eyes locked onto the Klingon like targeting sensors waiting to unleash a volley of torpedoes. Bits of technology and metal plating covered his head and arms. His body was protected by worn leather armour. A hole was forming in it around the upper right chest.

The arena master called them forth. Kang stood in a puddle of Koloth's blood. The orion's bat'leth was an unusual design. A long pole with two blades attached to each end. It could be used as a spear and much much more effective at stabbing. The drums began to beat again. In an instant the orion lunged at him as the Arena Master barely finished telling them to engage. Kang ducked the initial charging swing and swung his bat'leth around catching a glancing blow on the back of his armour to little effect. Dembar tuned and lurched forward again with savage thrusts. Kang easily parried but the strength of the brute was impressive. Kang kicked at his knee trying to get him off balance, but the Orion easily shrugged it off. He attacked again, their bat'leths locked. Kang headbutted the Orion sending parts of the metal casing on his head flying off. He headbutted him again and broke his nose. Dark green blood oozed down his face but he only smiled in return. He grabbed at kangs throat with a massive paw like hand and began to choke the life out of him. Kang kicked again at his leg, this time smashing into his kneecap causing a little separation. Kang locked bat'leth again and forced the huge man's unique deadly implement down to the ground, then raised the handle of his back into his opponent's chest, causing the orion to be winded by the force of the blow. He quickly spun the blade around and drove the outer edge into the forming hole in his armour into exposed flesh. The Orion grunted as he collapsed to the floor. Kang stood over him, bat'leth to his throat. The Orion conceded the fight and it was over.

"Kang. Winner," the Arena Master proclaimed to cheers from the crowd.

There was a short break before the final match. He walked to the medical area. He passed several maimed klingons lying on the floor, moaning and covered in blood that may or may not have been their own. The medical area was a poor excuse for a treatment centre and was little more for a square room with some bandages lying around, and a central drinking barrel of blood wine to numb the pain. The blood here was almost as plentiful as the arena floor. He saw a short Klingon was running an old dermal re-generator somewhat crudely over Koloth's shoulder, while Kor wrapped his leg in bandage. When he finished he went to get two goblets of wine for him and his friend, when he saw Kang approaching. 

"Ahh, Kang," said Kor, excitedly, "you seem in once piece. I take it you won?"

"I did," his deep voice echoing around the room.

"Not a man of many words is he?" said Koloth, a hint of his usual joviality creeping through the pain.

"You must forgive him, Koloth, his thoughts are fixated on honour and nothing more. No room for joy in this one." 

Koloth waved a finger in the direction of the arena ring, "I suggest he becomes fixated on that bIHnuch he has to face next. He's a tricky one. The judges are being lenient this year, more so than I have ever seen." 

"A bIHnuch you say," came a snake like voice from behind them, "I did not realise I was so disliked. It seems now is the winter of our discontent."

Chang strolled towards them. His skin was pasty, and his head was bald. He had shaved it like most klingons to honour Kahless during the period of hostilities between the Great Houses and the subsequent war with the Federation. When the then Chancellor L'Rell had called a peace he was vocally apposed and had chosen not to regrow in defiance. To him the war never ended. Kang looked him in the eyes. They showed a soul of arrogance and deceit. Every fibre of Kang's being told him not to trust this man.

"Can we help you?" asked Kor, in faux politeness.

His eyes remained transfixed on Kang, "I have been so... dying to meet you, Commander Kang. Your exploits are already... remarkable," his words slow and deliberate as if he was trying to hypnotise Kang. 

"Strange I have heard so little of you."

He let out a sly laugh, "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players. I play my the role that is required of me, nothing more. I seek not fame or riches."

"You certainly know how to turn a phrase," said Koloth, '_as well as a knife,' _he added silently.

"Just something I picked up, from my time conquering Federation worlds. A great pity that war ended the way it does. It leaves one unfulfilled."

"On that we agree," said Kang.

He smiled, "I suspect we are very much alike."

Kang studied his adversary, "No, no we are nothing alike," came the slow deep voice.

"I see. Well, I hope you regain the use of your shoulder," he said, with no sincerity to Koloth.

"Just a scratch," replied Koloth.

"Of course. Shall we depart, Commander, our fight is next." he said, gesturing back to the arena. 

"I will meet you soon enough," Kang replied, with no expression on his face.

Chang left the room. Koloth spat on the ground.

"He doesn't strike me as someone who would endanger his life in a tournament," said Kor, taking a big swig of blood wine.

"Then why come here if not for glory?" asked Koloth, puzzled at the thought.

"The Yan-Isleth," said Kang, under his breath.

Kor raised an eyebrow. "Speak, Kang. What are you thinking?"

Kang stroked his beard. "Winning the competition would give him a route into the Brotherhood, and would put him one step away from Chancellor Mo'keth." 

Koloth rubbed at his shoulder, "It would be a grave day for the Empire if he had the Chancellor's ear. If he's prepared to use illegal moves then you may have to respond in kind."

"Something tells me that the judges will only let him cheat," suggested Kor. The prospect that the judges were bought like some Ferengi was not a palatable one for the three Klingon warriors, but it certainly fit the evidence.

"I do not need to cheat to beat him," said Kang defiantly, and stormed off back into the arena before the others could say a word. Back in the hall he was greeted by cheers from the crowd. He found Chang waiting for him, looking down at him from the combat ring. 

He walked up the steps to the main platform to face his enemy. The noise from the crowd engulfed them. The call of the warrior surged through their veins. The Arena Master started the final contest and the two men faced each other.

Kang made the first move as he swung his blade, Chang took a step back and twirled his bat'leth while smiling. Kang studied him searching for any hidden weapon, but could see none that were obvious. Kang lunged forward with one massive swing that caught Chang unawares. He dropped to his knees. He instinctively rolled out of the way, as a blade came crashing down into the floor. Kang's bat'leth shattered through the force. He now held half a blade. Chang went on the offensive but Kang still managed to deflect the blow. He struck him across the chest with a spiked backhand, drawing some blood from his chest, causing the sly Klingon to drop his weapon. He went for the finishing blow but found a dagger in his belly than Chang had drawn from inside his armour.

"Is this a dagger I see before me, the handle toward my hand," he whispered into his ear, before taking what was left of his shattered bat'leth from him. He raised it above his head to inflict a similar blow to his shoulder than Kolth had suffered, but he shifted the angle to aim at Kang's head. Kang saw his intention in his eyes and quickly ripped the knife from his stomach and plunged it into his left eye. Chang let out a horrific scream, before falling to the floor clutching at the dagger protruding from what was left of his eye socket.

The Arena Master stood to his feet, as the judges had disqualifying Kang for the use of the illegal weapon. "Chang. Winner. Champion Standing."

"What! he cried. 

"The judges ruling is final. You win second place," said the Arena Master. The spectators were divided between joy of the brutal defeat of Chang and anger at a disqualification, and many were throwing food and objects at the judges. Kor and Koloth entered the ring. 

"This is an outrage. He drew the dagger on me, he attacked me first. I was only defending myself," he argued, but the Arena Master remained unmoved.

"Come, Kang, there is no honour to be had here. Let's us feast and drink and sing songs," suggested Kor. "You won, whatever the rules say."

"This does not feel like a victory," he replied.

"Any time you stab a man in the eye, it's a victory, my friend. Now let's eat, I'm starving." he said patting Kang on the back with one hand and his belly with the other, before leading him down the stairs.

"My dear Kor, do you ever think about anything but your stomach?" asked Koloth, limping after them.

"If I do I'm sure you'll be the first to know," he said shouting back at him.

The three klingons left the hall, leaving the victor in a pool of his own blood. 

_Several days later._

Chang winced as the bolts went into his skull, attaching the eye piece to his face. His left eye was too badly damaged and he had no interest in a prosthetic. He had lost much but gained much as well. His allies had made sure his place in the Brotherhood of the Sword was secure. His injury meant that he would not be expected to serve as a bodyguard, but Chancellor Mo'keth had selected him as one of several military advisers because of his war record. He rued the loss of his eye, but this had worked out better than he expected. It was a step in the right direction and he would do everything in his power to push the Empire back to war with the Federation and finish what was started. Klingons should be conquerors, not signing peace treaties. It would take time, this was just the first step in his quest, but he knew his destiny. '_How poor are they that have not patience,' _he thought to himself. He would get his war, it was just a matter of patience.


End file.
